


Sollux and Dave and the Big Bad Bro

by Birdgirl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Make-outiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdgirl/pseuds/Birdgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk does not approve of his little brother's new beau. Shenanigans ensue.</p><p>BACK OFF HIATUS. will post new chapters soon :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flashback part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I love the word shenanigans.  
> Secondly, I don't know how long this will be.  
> Thirdly, *looks up* hehe, shenanigans...

You walk through the door into the Strider apartment at exactly 3pm like always, slinging your backpack down by the door and jumping onto the couch, and kicking your shoes off. You flip on the TV, flipping channels for any awesomely ironic content, and settle on an animal planet documentary about jumbo shrimp. Pure irony.

You try to tune out and watch the television, but you can't relax. You're totally on edge, both nervous and excited about the cool shit that happened at school today. Crossing your arms and fixing on your poker face, you let your mind wander back to your junior class…

~7:30 that morning~

You're cool, and everybody knows it. You sit at the back of the class, your grades are good but not too snooty, and you don't mean to brag, but you're a fucking ironic ninja. People know that, too. Yeah, you've got everything under control.

Your gaze wanders the classroom, eyeing everyone individually, but nobody in particular. It pauses- no, stops, however, on the kid at the end of your row. He's pale, and you think he's pretty tall, like taller than 6 feet at least, but he slouches. He wears a black, short-sleeved shirt, and grey jeans, and his legs are almost as skinny as your arm.

You turn your head toward the front of the room, but keep your eyes locked on the kid. Where you're really looking is masked by your shades. To anyone else, you could either be paying attention to the teacher or just tuning out. You're just too fucking ninja sometimes.

He's writing something in his notebook- oh yeah, notes, you're in history- except it doesn't look like he's writing at all. More like- yeah, he's like, drawing or some shit. Wait- why do you even care, anyways? He's just some random kid in your history class.

You look away, and try to pay attention to all this world war shit. You've never been too good at history- you like to live in the moment. You can't stop thinking about that kid, though. It's weird, and you can't find any irony to play up, so you disregard the issue entirely, and go back to totally un-coolly sucking at your notes.

~Now~

You flip off the television, trying to shake thoughts from your head that you figure have no fucking business there. Even though they're kind of welcome thoughts… quite nice, actually…

Fuck, what are you even thinking? You feel like shaking your head, but that would ruin your poker face. Instead, you abruptly decide not to think any more about today's developments- you were going to get Bro's advice, remember? He couldn't be too far from getting home.

You decide to do some homework- shit's got to be done, so why not now? Plus, you totally weren't paying attention today- you aren't even sure you paid attention in any class other than history, because of what happened, of course… shit got you confused…

~8:00 that morning~

The bell rings, and the teacher frowns. You swear, this teacher just loves to bore you half to death. He's physically disappointed when the bell lets you free of his torturous confines. The tall kid at the end of your row- he puts everything in his backpack, and one paper in his pocket. He slings his backpack on, effectively worsening his slouch. He looks like he's just 5 foot 10 now. Wait, why the hell are you still watching this guy? Talk about stalker.

You look away, biding your time before you get up. It's annoying how all the kids crowd through the door- you don't like all the nudging and pushing and squeezing. It's like you're in some space ship and the air lock is leaking out precious oxygen. Only this is a classroom and the oxygen is like a group of 30 typical, boring, stink-ass teens. You like to wait a minute or so when nobody's left in the room before getting up and going.

When you finally do get up, you notice that mystery kid seems to have the same idea. What was he still doing here? You get your answer when he gets up and walks over to you purposefully. Wait, what is going on here? He's reaching into his pocket, and takes out that little sheet of paper or whatever he was doodling on. 

He looks into your eyes with no expression, and he's almost as good at the poker face as you. Except he's shaking, just a little bit, right before he throws the paper on the desk in front of you. You look up in confusion, but he's already looked away. He nearly bolted to the door.

You frown. What the fuck was this? You unfold the note, and your eyebrows unconsciously raise as you read the note. So, that's how it is, then. This is like one of those cheap love letters you get sometimes. Just in case there was any sort of mistake, the kid drew a picture of your face at the bottom. It was really accurate, which was nice, but it was also sort of creepy.

Anyways, you know you're good-looking, and you've gotten plenty of these love letters, but you don't think you've ever gotten one from a boy before. Plus, this one's different. Interesting. You put it back into your pocket- maybe you'll play this one out, see how it goes.

~Now, but even more now than before~

You sit back onto the couch, clutching your skull. Damn, your brain hurts. Stupid fucking Calculus. Why did you take this class, again? Oh yeah, because you're an idiot. Anyways, if you have to solve one more problem about planes flying over crop circles or whatever the fuck you're doing, you're going to explode. Poof. Just, like, spontaneously combust or something.

You throw your pencil back on the coffee table, and cross your arms as you sink back into the couch. This would be WAY easier if you had gotten some of it done in class. Or at least listened to what the fuck the teacher was saying. Or at least stopped sitting back and doing nothing like some douchebag delinquent.

No, wait, you weren't doing nothing- it was worse than that. You were daydreaming. You were daydreaming like a fucking freshman girl. And you were smiling like one, too. You're pretty sure your bros were kind of disgusted when you did that, because, seriously, that shit was embarrassing. Except for John- he was always smiling. Oh god, you were smiling just like John. Totally embarrassing.

Why didn't you notice before? Oh yeah, you were being a lovesick schoolgirl with a first crush. Except you're a dude. But that's the most pathetic part, you think, the dude-ness. Because that meant that you were a lovesick school-dude with a first crush. You haven't been able to stop thinking about that one person, and how it all started today at lunch…


	2. Flashback part 2

~11:30 that morning~

You read the note again. It said to meet him in the back corner by the abandoned vending machines. Well, you sort of ad-libbed the abandoned part, but those things were filled with so many shit snacks that they were a waste of the school's money to even have. And in the middle of a random back hallway, how convenient were they really to the student body? Not a fucking bit. But you could see why he picked this spot- seemed like a legit place to say stuff you didn't want anyone else to hear.

You leave your bros in a totally ninja way- here at one moment, gone the next. You know they wouldn't mind- they'd just toss it off as you being totally ironic and cool and shit. So you make your way to the vending machines, leaning back nonchalantly on the wall of that dimly-lit hallway. You check the time on your phone- 11:27. Well, he should be here any minute.

11:30 rolls along soon enough, and he's right on time. You see him before he sees you, and he jumps a little, eyes darting a little to make sure there's nobody else around. He walks towards you slowly and a little awkwardly now, and stops about 3 feet in front of you. You turn your head to face him.

"Uh… well… uh… hi?" he starts, but falls silent. He's totally stressed out and nervous, slouching and staring at his feet. You decide to help him along.

"Hi. So…?" yep. You're amazing at conversations. Shit's off the charts.

"Uh… uh… yeah, um, my name'th Tholluxth Captor, you probably don't know me, but I'm in your hithtory clath… and… well, I athked you to come here today becauthe… um…"

He trails off again, and oh god, he's got a lisp. You don't say anything this time.

He takes a deep breath. "I athked you to come here today becauthe, Dave Thtrider, I've had a thtupid gay crush on you for the patht year and it'th fucking idiotic but I had to tell you and you might hate me or think I'm a douche but I jutht… I jutht… I think I love you, Dave."

He's looked up at you now, his pale blue eyes moistened by oncoming tears. You're frozen in your tracks, not sure what to do. Usually the love letters say all this shit, you don't have to deal with it face-to-face, you just write a nice little let-down back. But Sollux isn't done yet.

"A-and… you'll probably think I'm a thicko, but… I jutht have to do thomething… jutht this once… pleathe…"

Do what? You lower your arms from your chest, and back up against the wall, because holy fuck he's coming closer. He's so close now, and the distance is growing shorter and shorter, two feet, now one… What is he doing? What the fuck is he doing?

"Wait- shit, dude- dude, what the fu-"

His eyes are closed now, and you feel his lips touch yours, and your eyes are wider than your turntable disks. Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK. You've got to get away, you've got to do something- dude, fucking DO something!

And then you're doing something. But it's not running away. Eyes squeezed shut, shades askew, you feel yourself relaxing. You're kissing him back, now, melting into it. His lips are chapped, but still soft, softer than you'd expect. His eyes open in surprise, but it's not long before his tongue, oh god, his tongue is licking the rims of your lips, making its way into your mouth. You're parting your own, and when your two tongues touch it's electric, it's amazing, it's… it's…

And then it's over. It's over, and you're a fucking mess. Your shades fell off somewhere, your mouth is still wet with his saliva, your eyes are lidded. You're like some fucking virgin. No, wait, you are. That was totally your first kiss, and it was awesome.

But you compose yourself quickly, finding your shades immediately, before he gets a chance to see your face, your red eyes, your vulnerable expression. That's all gone now, in the blink of an eye. Even your first kiss shouldn’t affect your poker face. Sollux is still a little dazed, but shakes it off and steps back. You bet this went totally different from what he expected.

Before he can say anything, you take a pen out of your pocket. Yes, you had a pen in your pocket. Why wouldn't you? You're ninja, remember? You grab his wrist, and scribble your number onto his hand, not saying a word. You figure, you've got a cool-guy rep to maintain, so you stand up tall, give a glance to the tall kid now staring at his hand, astonished, and start to make your way back to the cafeteria, like the sick ironic ninja you are.

~Now, but even more now-y~

History, English, Science- you even have homework in HEALTH. Fuck, you didn't do anything today, and now it's biting you in the ass. There's SO MUCH homework, dammit. You look at the clock- 7pm. Homework should not take 4 HOURS- you're tired just thinking about it. You decide to take a break.

You get up from the couch and stretch, because you're sore from sitting there so long. You get yourself a glass of milk from the fridge and lean over on the counter as you sip it every once in a while. Without the homework distraction, however, your mind wanders back to the kiss. Fuck, that was awesome. You hate to admit it, you really do, but that was the best un-ironic thing you'd ever done. All that rush, but slowness and gentleness, too- it beat strifing with Bro any day.

You allow the poker face to slip just long enough to slap yourself in the forehead. What the hell? Shit, man, get it fucking together. You're 17, and it's lame that you hadn't had your first kiss to begin with. Acting like a little girl would just ruin all your precious rep, because you could find no irony behind it. Now you almost miss the homework- it was your only distraction from these thoughts.

And what were you going to get Bro's help about, anyways? Your brother's so shady, plus, he probably knew you swung the gay way waaaay before you did. Would he make fun of you? Strife you or troll you? No, he'd know what to do- you were pretty sure he was gay, so he probably could help, but he was real good about not bringing his "drinking buddies" home with him- so you were never too sure.

You jump, just a little, when you look up from your milk and find yourself staring right into bro's shades. You didn't hear him come in- usually you at least know when he's in the room, you must have really been out of it. You put on the poker face again quickly, take a step back, and look up at him. He's staring at you in what you think might be his quizzical face, his curious face. Shit, he knows something's up.

He breaks the silence. "Have a good day at school, kid?" he's checking for reactions, so you do your best not to give him any. You speak before the silence has a chance to get awkward.

"Same as always." you down the rest of your milk in one gulp, put your cup in the sink, and sit back on the couch again. You start flipping through channels on the TV, but you're not really looking for anything, just flipping channels.

Bro nods. "Okay," he starts. "I see how it is."

You turn around, but it's already too late. He jumps you, knocking you off the couch and pinning you to the floor. He holds your upper arms with his elbows, and his katana's in your face (since when did he even have that with him?). His hips are holding yours down. You aren't going anywhere. Fuck.

You glare at him. He stares back at you, all business. "All right, kid. Start talkin'."


	3. Start Talkin'

The blunt of the katana is at your throat, and if he moves it half an inch he'll draw blood. His elbows are digging into your biceps, and you know you'll have twin bruises by the end of this. Now might be a good time to start talking.

"All right, all right…" you start, trying to waste time. But you realize that's pathetic. Bro knows you're stalling, you know you're stalling, so it would be stupid to continue. 

You decide to just spit it out.

"I had my first fucking kiss today. There. Happy? Got what you wanted? Shit..." you glare at him, daring him to oppose your sadly limited artillery of cuss words. You   
don't think he notices. He just stares at you, unmoving. 

"Ok." he says. Shit, you can't tell what he's thinking. He's got the best poker face there is. This is one of those times you wish he didn't.

"Ok? You're good? You can fucking let me go now, then? Much appreciated-"

"Who is he?" bro interjects.

“He? Why would you think I kissed a dud-"

He just looks at you, straight-faced. Oh, great. So he knew you were gay. Might as well not hide that, either. You continue:

"Ok, fine. He's got a lisp that's thick as hell, but I think his name was Sollux. Sollux… uh… it started with a C…"

"So you don't know him?"

"Well no, not really… he's just some kid from my social studies class is all… but seriously dude, let me-"

"Got it. I'll take care of this." Bro stands up abruptly, turning towards the door.

You sit up and rub your shoulders, which you just know are going to hurt like hell later. "Well fuck, thanks for the bruises- wait, wait, what are you doing?" his katana is in his hand, the other balled up into a fist.

"Be back in a few hours." he replies.

"No, Bro, where are you going?" you stand up, and follow him out the door, down the stairs, onto the sidewalk.

"Don't worry about it."

"Is this about Sollux? You're not going to… oh shit, Bro, stop."

"Go back inside, Dave."

"No, wait, Bro-" you run up behind him and take a leap. You should have known better- your weight did absolutely nothing to deter him. He just kept striding (no pun intended) purposefully towards… well… somewhere. Wait, where WAS he going, anyways? He couldn't possibly know where Sollux lived. Neither did you, for that matter.

The thought seemed to occur to Bro in the same moment.

"Where's your friend live, kid?" it's more of a demand than a question.

You let go of Bro's leg, and picked yourself off the cement, brushing off the dirt on your shirt and picking up the shattered remains of your dignity. You may have not   
had the high ground in this conversation, but you did have one thing, for sure. You were a little brother- A.K.A., the most difficult species in ANY universe.

"Why would I tell you?" not that you knew where Sollux lived, not even close. Bro didn't need to know that, though.

Of course, that was a lame tactic. Because of course he knew you were lying. He didn't say anything, though, just turned back the way he came. But you didn't even have the satisfaction of having stopped him, because there was no way you had him beat. He wasn't so easily- no, he just plain WASN'T defeated. Merely, postponed.

But boy, did you have to make good use of that time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for this late chapter. High school sucks for personal time- which is when I write. I wish we could write fanfictions for assignments- no, wait, that's a horrible idea. My teachers should NEVER read my fanfictions... ^_^


	4. Stop thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back!  
> God, I left this for so long but I got so many amazing comments (some more enthusiastic than others, hehe) but here you go! It's kind of short, but I promise, it's gonna get longer as I get back in the swing of things. I will finish this story for you guys, if it's the last thing I do!

The next morning you’re wide awake over an hour before your usual time. Your first instinct is to put on your shades- the Texas sun is way too fucking hot, even in the morning, holy hell. You stumble out of bed in boxers (covered in Ravens. Jade gave them to you for your birthday once, and you just didn’t have the heart to not wear them, weird as the gift choice was) and head to the bathroom.

The apartment is quiet, like, really quiet, and you’re not sure if that means Bro isn’t home, or if it means you ought to watch out for any bullshit shenanigans. You make it to the bathroom without incident, though, so you take a quick shower (shades off, you’re not a weirdo), and pull on a tank top with a record emblem in the middle. You designed it yourself, like, when you were 13. Back when you did comics and shit, and it still fits. You’re a pretty skinny guy.

_Not as skinny as Sollux_ , your mind supplies. _That guy’s like a stick, goddamn. Bet he’s got nothing but bones under that skin. Bet he’d do nothing but impale his elbow in your gut if you tried to cuddle…_

Wait. Fuck, stop that. The guy’s already gonna get some sort of shit done to him once Bro finds him, so there’s no real point in thinking about the guy anymore. You literally shake your head, feeling bad for the guy. You mean, you don’t blame him though. You are one hot ass motherfucker, of course everyone wants a piece of you.

_But you like him, too_. Wow, okay, who the fuck is saying this? It’s not you. You’re not saying this to yourself it’s like some subconscious voodoo shit because you don’t- _Yeah. You do. He’s totally your type, man, why the fuck are you letting Bro ruin this._

Alright. Even if you DID. You’ve fucked up before, alright? Karkat was a bust, and you didn’t even kiss him. Hell, back then you were so happy someone didn’t give a fuck you were gay that you let him hit you. You could defend yourself easy against the short stocky twirp, but you were so fucking twitterpated you took it- you took it, until Bro saw the black eye, and stepped in. You… don’t really like to talk about it.

The point is, you know exactly shit about relationships, even if he IS your type. _Even though he obviously likes you more._ Okay, first of all, you can’t prove that. He might have said he did, but so did the other guy (that we’re not talking about). _This one’s different, though. He kissed you._

Okay, sure, be obvious about it. Yeah, he did kiss you, but that could mean a whole shitload of things. He could just be fucking with you, because you were gay. It wasn’t unheard of, especially in Texas. It could have been a dare. Or part of some plot to save the universe- maybe he was some sort of Leeloo shit and he just saved the fucking planet. That would be cool, except the Fifth Element was just a fake show that Egbert made you watch, and had no place in reality whatsoever.

_Yeah, but, it also could have been real._

You just try to ignore that thought. You try to ignore it so hard that when you shimmy on your pants, you lose some focus on your environment, trip on a smuppet, and scare the shit out of yourself when it fucking squeaks. Great.

You consider just going back to bed. Just not facing the day, because fuck this day if this is how it’s gonna start out. You check the clock on your dresser. 6:30. School starts at 8, but right now you’re wide awake. Going back to bed would be impossible, even if Bro wouldn’t kick your ass across the roof for skipping.

And if you sat here too long, you’d probably think about the kiss again. How his lips were chapped and kind of dry, but painfully sincere. How he had to lean down over you to do it- god, he was at least 3 inches taller. And when you opened your mouths and your tongues-

Fuck it, you’re leaving now.


	5. Take Note

You’re the first one in your first period. Scratch probably thinks you’re ‘eager to learn’ or something, but really, you just didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. You weren’t completely sure what might come out of your mouth if you did.

The class filed in, some walked with friends and some just sat at their seat boredly, all getting out their entry tasks. You’d been here since before it was written on the board, sitting alone with the weird teacher who thought white jackets and green bowties went together.

You flicked your pen absentmindedly, staring at each person who came through the door through your shades. The bell would ring in a minute. Class would start. Sollux hadn’t come in yet. Oh god, what if Bro really did find him? What if he’d scared the shit out of the poor kid and now he couldn’t even come to class-

He came in just before the ring of the bell, walking fast on long legs. Gray pants, black shirt, hair in his face. Carrying an old laptop bag filled with binders and books, crinkled papers sticking out. You sighed in relief without thinking. Damn, your front has been slipping a lot lately. Get it together, Dave.

He sees you and blushes like a freaking anime shojo. Wow, at least you have more cool than this kid, at very least. That isn’t much of an accomplishment, though, considering the way he’s so obviously nervous. He cringes as his chair squeaks along the tiled floor when he pulls it out, despite the fact that this as high school and nobody cares about the shit chairs. His eyes flick up at you at least thrice before he actually sits down, for about half a second each, like he’s trying not to let you see him look. Amateur.

Class starts. You actually take notes this time, because hell if you’re gonna start getting down in your classes for any of this shit. It’s kind of hard to concentrate, though, because he keeps looking at you. Not really as frequently as before, but still, at least every 5 minutes. You look back at him through your shades, not that he’d know that. Once you raise an eyebrow at him, and his eyes go wide like he’s been caught, quickly darting back to his paper.

You shrug and go back to your notes, writing down dates that don’t really matter to you and names that bore you just to hear. You steal a few quick glances yourself up at the guy, but you’re way more subtle about it. He hunches over his chair so much that you wonder if he hasn’t got scoliosis or something. He’s gotten out an old laptop, covered in stickers of what you assume are some abstract video game logos, bands and horoscope signs, and he types up his notes instead of writing them. His fingers fly so fast you wonder if the computer is able to keep up, only taking a second or two each slide before going back to his notebook, where you assume he’s doodling again. It gives you an idea.

You write shorthand, now (as if your handwriting wasn’t scribbly enough) so you have extra time before class ends. You get out a marker and rip out a piece of notebook paper, scribbling your own drawing onto it. After a few minutes, you look down at your amazingly professional doodle, shining with an artistic splatter of color that even sweet jeff and hella bro couldn’t touch with a 10 foot pole. The portrait of Sollux was horrible, huge bi-colored shades over a super-thin face, which rested atop the ugliest stick figure he’d ever drawn, complete with gray pants and a boxy t-shirt. Nothing stayed in the lines, adding to the careful balance between purposeful detail and the dexterity of a blind elephant.

You smiled imperceptibly at the ironically stupid art, characteristically proud of yourself as he finished the picture off with a red marker in the corner, writing down his pesterchum username. Perfect.

By the time the bell rings, you’re packed and flashstepping out the door, hoping to get to the door before the rest of the smelly teens. On the way, you drop the paper on Sollux’s desk, watch him startle. But by the time he’s seen it, read it, looked up, you’re nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm a bit slow on this story (I bet you noticed, yeah?) because tbh I haven't been in actively in the Homestuck fandom for some time. Please excuse my OOC points and short chapters. I'd really like to finish this for you guys, it's just a lot harder than I'd planned on it being.  
> I'm also very invested in the Spn fandom (Going to the con in Seattle- super excited!) so I've got Supernatural on the brain pretty constantly. Forgive me for not giving this fic full attention, but I still hope to finish it for you guys eventually!


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